One Night Hand
by Veritas Found
Summary: Jack's latest onenight stand makes the Doctor regret ever dabbling in reanimation. [Pure crack. For Word 33 in the 15 Minute Fic comm.]


**Title:** "One Night Hand"

**Author:** Wish Wielder

**Fandom:** Doctor Who

**Pairing / Character Focus:** Jack x Ten's Hand, slight Ten x Rose

**Challenge:** 15 Minute Fic

**Theme / Prompt:** #33

**Word Count:** 1,347

**Rating:** T / PG-13

**Summary:** Jack's latest one-night stand makes the Doctor regret ever dabbling in reanimation.

**Notes:** Post-S4/Reunion with Jack taking a TW vacation (just 'cause I like them all back together). Also: pure crack.

**Disclaimer:** "Doctor Who" and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own "Doctor Who".

**Dedication:** This one's for my much-loved Aku (Give Us A Cuddle), who asked for a Jack x Hand (her newest cracktastic OTP) fic. Love ya', Aku! -hugs-

**_"One Night Hand"_**

The rustling sound of the morning paper greeted Jack as he walked into the kitchen of the TARDIS. Judging from the pounding in his skull he assumed it was sometime between mid-morning and noon, his usual hangover wake-up time, but he couldn't really be sure. Clocks had a nasty habit of not really working on the TARDIS.

"Well, don't you two look cute," his taunting voice came out more of a grumble as he looked over to the table. The Doctor was sitting back in a chair reading a paper (something that seemed entirely too domestic for the man, in Jack's humble opinion), a steaming cuppa on the table beside him. He was in his usual pinstripes, and his legs were spanning the distance between his chair and Rose's, where his bare feet were resting on her lap. His trainers and socks were tossed carelessly beside them, and Rose was absent-mindedly giving him a massage while she looked over the comics. She was still in her jim-jams – a pair of black knickers and a pink tank - and her own cuppa was placed near her paper. A plate of toast and a half-eaten jar of marmalade were situated somewhere between them.

"Oh, but we are cute!" the Doctor said, looking up from his paper to grin at the Torchwood head. Rose didn't bother looking up from her reading.

"Undeniably," she added, grinning as her eyes quickly darted to the Doctor.

"Yep," he said, popping his 'P', "totally cute – that's us. You're up late, Jack. Busy night?"

"You could say that," he said. The Doctor quirked a brow at him as he made his way to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water before turning to the cabinets. "Christ, Doc – don't you have any aspirin?"

"Allergic," the Doctor and Rose said simultaneously. He rolled his eyes and pointed at Rose.

"You're not," he said, and she shrugged.

"Figured it's safer if we just don't keep any around, and his painkillers work just as well on me," she said. She snorted and covered her hand with her mouth, abandoning the Doctor's massage to shove the paper under his nose. "Marmaduke."

"So where do you keep his stuff?" Jack asked, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than he was biting his lip against the lewd joke he was just dying to make. There'd be time to torment the happy couple later.

"Med bay. Right counter by the door, third row, second drawer down. Next to the gauze," the Doctor said, choking back a laugh as he read the comic. He shared another look with Rose, shaking his head as he passed back the paper. "Though honestly, Jack – normally your endeavors don't lead you back to the TARDIS. I wasn't expecting you back 'til after lunch – you didn't bring someone on board, did you? You know how much I hate it when you do that."

"That was an accident!" Jack said, eyebrows soaring at the pointed look the Doctor gave him. Rose danced her fingers up the center of the bottom of his foot, causing him to squirm and giggle. Her own stare was leveled on Jack, though, and he found the next joke dying in his throat.

"Doesn't matter, Jack – I'm the only one who gets to see him starkers, thank you very much. And maybe you, if you've bought him enough drinks," she said, and the Doctor threw his head back as a laugh burst from his gut; despite his desire to sulk, Jack couldn't fight the smile at how much more relaxed this Doctor was now that Rose was back with him. "So what exactly did happen last night? Last we saw you you were talking up that blue-skinned bloke at the bar. Though there were some…well, noises later on. You two end up dancing?"

"Who, Kiarn'ho? Nah – he ain't my type," Jack said, waving a hand at her.

"Jack, you don't have a type. Well, you do, but it's not very specific. Pretty much accepts anything willing – it's more like a happy hippie at Woodstock. Goes for anyone and anything," the Doctor said, and Jack grinned.

"You know I'm still holding out for you, Doc," he said, winking at him.

"You know the rules: you have to buy me a drink first," the Doctor said, passing the next section of paper to Rose. Jack rolled his eyes and looked to the unfinished toast. He walked over to the table, plopping down in the seat closest to Rose as he grabbed at the plate. He reached for the marmalade and paused as his hand hovered over the jar; thinking better of it (or, really, just thinking of the Doctor's fascination with the sticky sweet and his tendency to forget how to use a knife), he settled for munching on the buttered toast. He saw Rose smirk at his evasion from the corner of his eye and returned the grin.

"Never finished explaining, Jack," she said, and he nodded and swallowed.

"Dropped Kiarn'ho in a cab and came back here," he said. "Opened up his best bottle of Scotch and –"

"You what?!" the Doctor asked, his eyebrows soaring into his hairline. Jack waved him off and smirked.

"Kidding, Doc – cheap hypervodka from a corner store," he said. The Doctor visibly relaxed, though that may have just been because of how Rose was wiggling his toes. "Rest of the night is kind of a blur."

A soft pattering reached their ears, and they turned to the entrance of the kitchen in time to see the Doctor's old hand drag itself in. A slight show of acrobats later found the hand on the table, sunk in a deflated sort of way against Jack's water bottle. Rose and the Doctor shared a look as its pinky raised and seemed to give a scolding wave at Jack. When Jack shoved his water bottle in his mouth and began guzzling the liquid, Rose bent over laughing as the Doctor gagged.

"JACK! Honestly – _my hand?!_" he screamed, suddenly regretting his decision to re-animate the severed limb. Jack shoved a piece of toast in his mouth as the limp hand dragged itself over to his arm, where it began cuddling his palm. Rose nearly slipped out of her chair in her hysterics, her nails scratching the Doctor's feet slightly as she fisted her hands. "Captain Jack Harkness, you…you…_my hand!_ And…and…_you!_ That's just…that's…and you…and it…EUGH!"

"I think it's cute," Rose gasped, sending him a cheeky wink. He turned a wide-eyed, slack-jawed look her way, and she grinned.

"_But it's my hand!_" he screeched, and Jack gulped down his third piece of toast.

"Well, really, Doc…" he said, fighting against the squeak his voice wanted to become. He wasn't sure how he should be reacting to this (he honestly didn't remember…well, not with the hand, at least, but he had been pretty out of it…), but he decided to take it all in his usual, Captain of the Innuendo Squad-induced stride. "I did say I was holding out for you. I'll just settle for bits until you come around."

"Bwuh…you…JACK!!!!" the Doctor screamed, tearing his feet from Rose's hands and leaping across the table. Jack grinned and jumped up, making a mad dash for the door. He winked at Rose as he ran past her and into the hall, the Doctor hot on his heels and yelling out all the terrible things he was going to do to the captain once he got his hands on him. Rose looked back to the limp hand still resting on the table, and her lips twitched as she saw it nuzzle against the abandoned water bottle. She glanced between the door and the hand one more time as another laugh burst from her. Without another thought she reached over and scooped up the hand, depositing it on her shoulder and running a finger along the center arch. It shuddered under her touch, and she bit her lip against the grin.

Well, really – Jack shouldn't be allowed to have all the fun. It was technically her hand, too…

**A.n.:** _Ok, so I totally took this over 15 minutes (word was 'limp'), but I just couldn't stop writing. And I blame Aku, even though it's technically ClevernessRenamed's fault. See, she's got this pic on dA (SarcasticFox) of Jack and the jarred Hand married ("Marriages"), and now Jack x Hand has kinda become a new cracktacular OTP for Aku 'n me. (Though my personal favorite is still Nine x Cassandra. xP_

_SO THIS IS FOR YOU, AKU! Because yes, my crack addiction is partially your fault.xP I'll work on the Ten x Jack x banana-but-not fic soon. (Hey hey – we should totally include Hand in the x-over! xD Can you see that? "Wait…the guy hitting on me is dating a hand?!" "Sorry, Sammy, but you know how those 51st Century guys are." "…stop calling me Sammy. Dx")_

_**EDIT:** Ok, re-proofed this…I apologize for the first draft up; apparently I really shouldn't proofread anything at 3AM._


End file.
